Dreamlandia... It's a long one.
Analyze THIS
Dream 1:
Sitting in mysterious apt. fer rec. club, the usuals are all there (though lately that has been an unpredictable group). A few knocks later and the tiny room, decorated like a moldy gma's mobile home, fills to the brim with strangers old and new. I begin to panic when I realize that I have not prepared the proper songs to fit the theme, which is (also in reality) "Questions". For some reason I feel this insatiable need to leave the place, grab some more appropriate recs and come back, more prepared. I don't know why, but I lie and say that I grabbed the wrong stack from my house. I push through the crowd of dissapointed people and finally burst through the door.
It is calm and lovely outdoors, the sky is blue, the grasses green and all the townsfolk smile as they pass by me on the sidewalk, a complete contrast to the environment I just left. I walk pass fictional buildings, those typical to any town, a bank, a grocery store, etc. etc., and in the foreground I see two gigantic burgundy aircrafts. They look very military, sharp corners and exotic labels of unknown origins. I realize soon that they seem so large because they are actually crashing down in front of me, smashing into said generic buildings. The calm city sidewalks are soon awash with panic, and I realize, standing on the imaginary corner of Westnedge and Vine (almost home!), that I need to find shelter. I decide the best thing for me to do is to return to rec. club and hide out til this chaos is over. That's when the journey becomes impossible.
Clinging to my records as if they were a newborn infant I struggle against overbearing winds from the turbines and rotors of overhanging aircrafts, ready to do the same as their previous partners. This is when I realize that this town is under attack. Panicking, I try my best to run to safety, but it is so difficult against this pressure and wind, I collapse and begin writhing on the ground to a safer locale. For some fucked up reason I cannot let loose of these stupid records. Records that moments ago were inadequate for and overwhelming group of nonpartisan strangers. This is very frustrating in my dream because they are making it increasingly difficult to move.
Behind me are the sounds of screams, buildings collapsing, car alarms, etc. typical sounds of disaster. Finally i see potential refuge in a Bar on the corner in front of me. Still crawling on the ground, I pull myself inside by the doorframe, and I am met with a crowd of drunkards blank and confused stares. I stand to my feet in panic and shock. Immediately I begin questioning the patrons of the Bar. What is going on? Turn on the News, Are we at war? etc., and again, I am stared at as if I were the one crashing planes into buildings. No one has noticed anything that is going on outside, and when I turn and look out the front windows I understand why. Nothing is happening. The sky is still blue, moms stroll their babies and walk their dogs. The green shrubs in front are perfectly trimmed and no one is running or screaming.
WHAT?
Dream 2:
It is Art hop, and as in many of my dreams, the layout of the building or buildings is completely confusing, as if an architect specifically designed the rooms and halls to disorient me.
I am wandering through fantasy-Park Trades Center when I realize that I am running late to an art opening. The Art opening for the Pop Up project, and it is demanded that I arrive on time and ready to greet the public (?). I don't seem to sense the urgency at this point in my dream because I spend the next little while roaming from gallery to gallery, collecting more wine in my belly and spending money on art projects I cannot afford (sound familiar?). I then bump into Girl who participated in the PopUp and she starts harassing me, pushing and shoving me, telling me that I need to get to the Gallery ASAP, blahblahblah. So I head off in what I believe to be the general direction of my destination, pissed off at her and frustrated with myself that I can't keep up with commitments.
This is when I get lost. VERY lost. I am roaming through courtyards, up and down staircases. Feeling trapped in an escher illustration, I might as well be walking upside down. I may have been. Either way, I am feeling very flustered and confused and I know that once I do arrive at the Gallery I will be scolded and scorned, etc., a series of embarassing events I would rather not be subjected to. So I decide to leave. I decide at that moment that I should cut ties with everyone I know in this community, that I would rather just walk away than feel that I have dissapointed everyone.
Leaving is proving to be just as difficult as trying to find the gallery. I am still lost, wandering labyrinths and coves and tightrope-walk hallways. I visit the occasional gallery, still collecting pamphlets, brochures, wine, art, etc. etc. I now have an armload of paraphenalia. Turning a corner I bump into someone, nearly dropping all of my goods. I am agitated that I nearly drop everything and in another moment of frustration I realize that I have bumped into the same Girl from before, only now she is very helpful and kind, she wants to guide me in the right direction. She can sense that I have been on a long confusing journey and perhaps she takes pity on me. She makes me feel somewhat belittled, but comforted, because I was momentarily helpless.
We head off toward the gallery, she is informing me that I am not even late yet, that I don't need to worry, "No one will care". I feel good now, excited to see everyone and anticipating a night of proud accomplishment.
This will be very difficult to explain without a diagram, but I will try my best. We come to a long and wide but very steep staircase. Perpendicular to the entry way of the staircase there is a narrow bridge of sorts with a smaller staircase on each end, as well as one meeting the center of the bridge. So the Bridge runs parallel to the direction of the large staircase... maybe? Anyway, its not really important, but it is still quite vivid in my mind. We come to a landing right before the Big Staircase and Girl instructs me that the entrance to the gallery is at the top of the straircase off the center of the bridge. From the landing I have to jump to reach the entrance of the staircase, which is not intimidating or frightening because the gap is very small. I jump, and just as I land my footing in front of the center staircase, she barks at me "Not THAT one, the OTHER one!" and lets out a gigantic sigh... I quickly turn to please her with my ability to follow directions, but when I do, I slip. This is when time slows to a fraction of a second. I see the gap beneath me widening into a black hole of nothing. I think about reaching out to the edge of the bridge but I don't want to drop my things... in this instant I take a good look at the things in my arms; a camera, rolling tabacco, paint, tattered clothes, empty plastic cups stained with wine, some old books... most things I did not have before this exact moment. I clutch them tightly, laughing, staring up at the girl screaming down at me to reach out and save myself.
Dream 1:
Sitting in mysterious apt. fer rec. club, the usuals are all there (though lately that has been an unpredictable group). A few knocks later and the tiny room, decorated like a moldy gma's mobile home, fills to the brim with strangers old and new. I begin to panic when I realize that I have not prepared the proper songs to fit the theme, which is (also in reality) "Questions". For some reason I feel this insatiable need to leave the place, grab some more appropriate recs and come back, more prepared. I don't know why, but I lie and say that I grabbed the wrong stack from my house. I push through the crowd of dissapointed people and finally burst through the door.
It is calm and lovely outdoors, the sky is blue, the grasses green and all the townsfolk smile as they pass by me on the sidewalk, a complete contrast to the environment I just left. I walk pass fictional buildings, those typical to any town, a bank, a grocery store, etc. etc., and in the foreground I see two gigantic burgundy aircrafts. They look very military, sharp corners and exotic labels of unknown origins. I realize soon that they seem so large because they are actually crashing down in front of me, smashing into said generic buildings. The calm city sidewalks are soon awash with panic, and I realize, standing on the imaginary corner of Westnedge and Vine (almost home!), that I need to find shelter. I decide the best thing for me to do is to return to rec. club and hide out til this chaos is over. That's when the journey becomes impossible.
Clinging to my records as if they were a newborn infant I struggle against overbearing winds from the turbines and rotors of overhanging aircrafts, ready to do the same as their previous partners. This is when I realize that this town is under attack. Panicking, I try my best to run to safety, but it is so difficult against this pressure and wind, I collapse and begin writhing on the ground to a safer locale. For some fucked up reason I cannot let loose of these stupid records. Records that moments ago were inadequate for and overwhelming group of nonpartisan strangers. This is very frustrating in my dream because they are making it increasingly difficult to move.
Behind me are the sounds of screams, buildings collapsing, car alarms, etc. typical sounds of disaster. Finally i see potential refuge in a Bar on the corner in front of me. Still crawling on the ground, I pull myself inside by the doorframe, and I am met with a crowd of drunkards blank and confused stares. I stand to my feet in panic and shock. Immediately I begin questioning the patrons of the Bar. What is going on? Turn on the News, Are we at war? etc., and again, I am stared at as if I were the one crashing planes into buildings. No one has noticed anything that is going on outside, and when I turn and look out the front windows I understand why. Nothing is happening. The sky is still blue, moms stroll their babies and walk their dogs. The green shrubs in front are perfectly trimmed and no one is running or screaming.
WHAT?
Dream 2:
It is Art hop, and as in many of my dreams, the layout of the building or buildings is completely confusing, as if an architect specifically designed the rooms and halls to disorient me.
I am wandering through fantasy-Park Trades Center when I realize that I am running late to an art opening. The Art opening for the Pop Up project, and it is demanded that I arrive on time and ready to greet the public (?). I don't seem to sense the urgency at this point in my dream because I spend the next little while roaming from gallery to gallery, collecting more wine in my belly and spending money on art projects I cannot afford (sound familiar?). I then bump into Girl who participated in the PopUp and she starts harassing me, pushing and shoving me, telling me that I need to get to the Gallery ASAP, blahblahblah. So I head off in what I believe to be the general direction of my destination, pissed off at her and frustrated with myself that I can't keep up with commitments.
This is when I get lost. VERY lost. I am roaming through courtyards, up and down staircases. Feeling trapped in an escher illustration, I might as well be walking upside down. I may have been. Either way, I am feeling very flustered and confused and I know that once I do arrive at the Gallery I will be scolded and scorned, etc., a series of embarassing events I would rather not be subjected to. So I decide to leave. I decide at that moment that I should cut ties with everyone I know in this community, that I would rather just walk away than feel that I have dissapointed everyone.
Leaving is proving to be just as difficult as trying to find the gallery. I am still lost, wandering labyrinths and coves and tightrope-walk hallways. I visit the occasional gallery, still collecting pamphlets, brochures, wine, art, etc. etc. I now have an armload of paraphenalia. Turning a corner I bump into someone, nearly dropping all of my goods. I am agitated that I nearly drop everything and in another moment of frustration I realize that I have bumped into the same Girl from before, only now she is very helpful and kind, she wants to guide me in the right direction. She can sense that I have been on a long confusing journey and perhaps she takes pity on me. She makes me feel somewhat belittled, but comforted, because I was momentarily helpless.
We head off toward the gallery, she is informing me that I am not even late yet, that I don't need to worry, "No one will care". I feel good now, excited to see everyone and anticipating a night of proud accomplishment.
This will be very difficult to explain without a diagram, but I will try my best. We come to a long and wide but very steep staircase. Perpendicular to the entry way of the staircase there is a narrow bridge of sorts with a smaller staircase on each end, as well as one meeting the center of the bridge. So the Bridge runs parallel to the direction of the large staircase... maybe? Anyway, its not really important, but it is still quite vivid in my mind. We come to a landing right before the Big Staircase and Girl instructs me that the entrance to the gallery is at the top of the straircase off the center of the bridge. From the landing I have to jump to reach the entrance of the staircase, which is not intimidating or frightening because the gap is very small. I jump, and just as I land my footing in front of the center staircase, she barks at me "Not THAT one, the OTHER one!" and lets out a gigantic sigh... I quickly turn to please her with my ability to follow directions, but when I do, I slip. This is when time slows to a fraction of a second. I see the gap beneath me widening into a black hole of nothing. I think about reaching out to the edge of the bridge but I don't want to drop my things... in this instant I take a good look at the things in my arms; a camera, rolling tabacco, paint, tattered clothes, empty plastic cups stained with wine, some old books... most things I did not have before this exact moment. I clutch them tightly, laughing, staring up at the girl screaming down at me to reach out and save myself.